<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Because when idiots fall in love, they make a proper mess of it by A_fighter_like_Eowyn</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25605376">Because when idiots fall in love, they make a proper mess of it</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_fighter_like_Eowyn/pseuds/A_fighter_like_Eowyn'>A_fighter_like_Eowyn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Friends, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Breaking Up &amp; Making Up, Comfort/Angst, Declarations Of Love, Dorks in Love, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Epic Friendship, Established Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, French Kissing, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gentle Kissing, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia &amp; Jaskier | Dandelion Friendship, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Apologizes, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Cares About Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Takes Care of Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Whump, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia and Jaskier | Dandelion Are Soulmates, Heavy Angst, Hurt, Hurt Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Insecure Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, Jealous Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jealousy, Kissing, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Love, Making Out, Making Up, Male Friendship, Mild Smut, Mutual Pining, Neck Kissing, Non-Graphic Smut, POV Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, POV Jaskier | Dandelion, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Pining, Pining Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Pining Jaskier | Dandelion, Pre-Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Reconciliation, Reconciliation Sex, Reunion Sex, Reunions, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Friendship, Sex, Smut, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Touch-Starved Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, True Love, True Love's Kiss</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:01:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,622</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25605376</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_fighter_like_Eowyn/pseuds/A_fighter_like_Eowyn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>My first attempt at a one-shot.</p><p>What happens if neither Jaskier nor Geralt ever realized, during the time they were together, that they might have feelings for each other a bit beyond normal friendship? And what if, after their unfortunate parting on that mountain, both of them slowly start to realize how empty their lives have become? </p><p>What if Geralt runs into Jaskier in a tavern one day, only to find his bard being fondled by another man?</p><p>Okay, this fic, although inspired by my ideas of emotional hurt / comfort, eventually progressed to sex and lovemaking. To be honest, I am not sure how I feel describing that part in detail - I don't think I want to write such an elaborate thing again because it is a bit tiring, frankly speaking LOL. But such as it is, I hope you all enjoy this fic.</p><p>PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW, AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!! KUDOS AND COMMENTS GO A LONG WAY IN KEEPING US AUTHORS MOTIVATED :-)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia &amp; Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia &amp; Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>175</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Geralt is Sorry, Gorgeous Geralt and Jaskier ❤️, Stupid Geralt/Sweet baby Jaskier, The Witcher(Geralt/Jaskier)</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Because when idiots fall in love, they make a proper mess of it</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Neither of them could have correctly predicted what life would be like after they parted ways, as far as they could tell, for good.</p><p>Neither of them was prepared for the way the canvas of life seemed devoid of the most important colours after that fateful day on the mountain, no matter how hard they tried to fill up the void using whatever colours they could get their hands on.</p><p>Neither of them could have foreseen the way everything around them became weirdly blurred and drab and bleak - how the light of the springtime sun seemed less bright and warm, how the chirping and warbling of birds became a lot quieter, how laughter dimmed, how the sweet, mellow drizzle after the parched, arid summer days felt less cool and soothing upon their skins. How nights became restless and punctuated with the sinister feelers of nightmares trying to crawl into their slumbers. </p><p>How mundane and utterly exhausting became the assignments of slaying monsters, no matter how much money was offered.</p><p>How perfunctory and tiring became the task of composing new songs, how trite the idea of performing for a tavern-full of audiences as barmaids capered and shot him flirtatious looks, how little the mind cared whether the applause and praises were sincere or tepid.</p><p>
  <em>How did they come to this? Why did it feel this way? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Why did life feel like a long, endless, meaningless journey, repeated in a tiresome sequence of days and nights and days and nights and days...</em>
</p><p>Certainly, as far as either of them could recall, it hadn't felt this way <em>before</em> they had parted. Their feelings for each other hadn't remotely suggested things could ever come to this.</p><p>Sure, Jaskier had seemed to all outsiders like a lovesick puppy following Geralt around, but the bard had not passed up a single opportunity to sleep around with ladies of noble birth and tavern wenches alike, and even took time to write ditties of adulation towards those whom he had particularly enjoyed tumbling. Geralt was his friend, of course - he could go even so far as to say that Geralt was his closest friend despite the bard never lacking for admirers thanks to his ready, beaming smile and his disarming charm. But that was all, right?</p><p>And Geralt - well, Geralt had been recalcitrant throughout the two decades they had spent together in even deigning to call Jaskier his friend. He had been adamant in his denial that he had ever <em>needed</em> Jaskier - that Jaskier was anything more than a nuisance always at his heels. When he had looked at Jaskier, it was more often than not with a glare or an annoyed frown or a vexed scowl. And when he had conceded to talk to Jaskier, it had been through monosyllabic answers, apathetic grunts, curses and threats and angry growls.</p><p>So yeah. Basically, they should be <em>fine</em> without one another.</p><p>Yes, Jaskier was supposed to feel quite a bit hurt and aggrieved after the things Geralt had yelled at him on that mountaintop. He was supposed to sulk just a wee bit. May be write a song about the entire fiasco, and find ways to very politely, very subtly, ask Geralt to "Fuck off!" in that song. And then move on.</p><p>And Geralt was supposed to mutter "Good riddance!" and then plunge into his usual spree of monster-hunting, or take off after Yennefer in hot pursuit.</p><p>
  <em>Instead, here they were. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Moping.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Positively, decidedly, undeniably moping.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The both of them.</em>
</p><p>Like right now, this very instant, the way Geralt was glowering at the dregs of coffee at the bottom of his mug like they had done him some great and irreversible personal wrong, while sitting by himself at one corner of the rather congested tavern.</p><p>And since when had he started favouring stupid <em>coffee</em> over ale again, like some pompous brat of a noble?</p><p>That's right - after the fucking break-up.</p><p>Wait, what?</p><p>Oh sorry, he meant the incident on the mountaintop. After which he lost ... someone.</p><p>Was this someone a lover?</p><p>Of course not! That ... was Yennefer, right? This someone ... was no one important, right?</p><p>
  <em>This someone was just an idiotic, maddeningly loquacious, ceaselessly laughing and chortling and babbling, harebrained and absolutely insufferable bard. And hence, someone Geralt despised. Why the fuck would he miss this someone? He was glad to be rid of the pestering fool, right?</em>
</p><p>Then why had every moment of his existence since that parting felt so - so empty? Like a part of him - a <em>major</em> part - had gone missing? He had been a loner for almost the entirety of his years as a Witcher on the Continent, and yet ...</p><p>And yet, what he would have earlier described as "blessed silence" while he rode alone now seemed like a blanket of heaviness, of loneliness, slowly smothering him.</p><p>Since that day, every time he had made his way to a hunt, he had realized that he had cared a lot less about whether the monster, or monsters, might finish him off. Because at the end of the fights, he had had no one to come home to. </p><p>No one waiting at the inn, quill and parchment ready. No one waiting at the inn, with a joyous (and underneath, relieved) smile plastered to his face, while he prepared a steaming hot bath and gathered soaps and pumice stones and bath oils and fragrant lotions to bathe, wash and clean Geralt of the day's toils. No one waiting for him to come back so they could have dinner together.</p><p>He had come across Yennefer once, during what he deep down knew was his listless, aimless wandering around the Continent under the pretext of seeking monsters to kill. Her once-seething anger had cooled down for the most part, and she had pulled Geralt into a kiss. And he had reciprocated it, telling himself that nothing could have been better, that this was the bliss and the true love his heart had secretly been yearning for.</p><p>Geralt and Yennefer had sedately made their way upstairs from the inn's refectory in a show of decorum, and then, once the door to her room had been clicked shut, the sorceress had all but slammed the Witcher against the door and kissed him almost violently, her teeth drawing blood as they nibbled his lower lip. And they both had expected that he would moan and melt into the kiss. Except that he hadn't.</p><p>As they had hurriedly undressed each other, and Yennefer had lowered herself on her knees, her mouth level with his cock, a wicked grin widening across her breathtakingly beautiful face, Geralt had felt ...</p><p>
  <em>... he had felt that he just couldn't do this ...</em>
</p><p>All this time, he had tried to convince himself that this was all he could have ever asked for.</p><p>All this time, he had told himself that making love to Yen, showering her with his love, making her feel pleasured and adored and worshipped and happy - would be the sole thing he lived for.</p><p>All this time, the thought of Yen so pliant, so eager to pleasure him, had made his knees go weak. Because he had thought to himself that the sorceress - stubborn, proud, even arrogant, and far superior, far more powerful, far more erudite, skilled and gifted than he was - would never be willing to surrender to his love.</p><p>And now that the moment was upon them, when she was lazily stroking his cock, when he could see her about to wrap those brilliantly crimson, plump lips around the head of his member - when his body ought to be throbbing and pulsating with the anticipation of the pleasure to come...</p><p>
  <em>... all that Geralt of Rivia had felt was a concoction of fear, crippling guilt and a desperate need to run...</em>
</p><p>"Yen, I can't!"</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"Sorry, I ... I'm not ready for ... forgive me ..."</p><p>And he had sprinted from the room while pulling up his breeches.</p><p>
  <em>And he had known that he would really know no love, no pleasure from anyone else anymore. Anyone except ...</em>
</p><p>And Jaskier? What about him?</p><p>The frivolous, flippant, utterly carefree bard, who had once been known for his promiscuity in the courts of the royals and the slums for the poor alike, who had once been chased off by cuckolded husbands and lovers, stolen kisses from and fondled noblewomen even in public, bounced giggling barmaids on his lap -- something had changed in that bard.</p><p>He had strutted into taverns with a dazzling smile that made his jaws ache but never reached his eyes, lute cradled in his arms, ready to dance a jig. And all he had been able to do was sing ballads and dirges and elegies, all lamenting for the departed, pouring forth the pain in the hearts of the bereaved. All he had been able to weave through his songs were stories of lovers sundered, making the drunkest of his audiences sob openly and the soberest to at least sniffle.</p><p>And when he had attempted to compose anything new, his mind had come up completely blank. </p><p>
  <em>Because what was there to write about, if not the tales of heroic feats, of courage and kindness of a certain dour-faced, reticent, stoic, noble, beautiful, deep down caring and kind, white-haired, amber-eyed...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh, stop it!</em>
</p><p>The first time he had tried to become intimate with anyone was <em>more than a month</em> after the incident on the mountain. That alone should have raised suspicion in his mind.</p><p>He still remembered that night. He had been quite exhausted, but he had still let himself be swept off his feet (quite literally) by a tall, burly man with a handsome face and a crookedly coy smile, and a few minutes later had found himself pinned to the bed, shirt torn off, unbearably hot and wet kisses being placed on his torso even as the total stranger loomed above him, his fingers slick with lube, attempting to insert themselves into Jaskier.</p><p>And Jaskier had gagged. He had felt bile rise up his throat.</p><p>
  <em>He could not! It was literally unbearable - the thought of lying underneath this stranger, being breached, while all his mind could think of was ...</em>
</p><p>And roughly shoving the man off himself, the naked bard had bolted from the room, pausing just for a second to pick up his thankfully-intact trousers.</p><p>A few weeks later, his mind desperately trying to chalk the previous incident up to fatigue or his not feeling well enough, Jaskier had bolstered himself for another try. Another attempt to bed and to be bedded, with nothing but pleasuring and being pleasured as the end-goal. Another pretty man, with rippling muscles on his chest and arms.</p><p>And another failure. Another time Jaskier had run from the room, half-naked, panting and terrified.</p><p>Another time that his mind had sabotaged his chance for a decent tumble, by conjuring image after image after image ...</p><p>
  <em>... of Geralt.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Of the White Wolf looking at him with a rare smile of fondness and tenderness.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Of the White Wolf leaning against him in exhaustion while even his mutant body reeled from the blows and gashes and bruises and lacerations from battling a particularly vicious monster.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Of Jaskier gingerly bandaging the wounds on that muscular, sculpted chest and those brawny arms, gentle fingers trying to stem the blood seeping from them.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Of Jaskier bathing Geralt, scrubbing off dirt and blood and grime and sweat from his skin and his hair, tenderly rubbing soft soapy solution on those luxurious tresses, cleaning them thoroughly from root to tip, and afterwards braiding them lovingly.

</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Of Geralt lying next to him, both of them facing the heavens with their backs pressed to the soft, leaf-strewn earth beneath them, silently enjoying the mesmerizing view of the night sky studded with stars, occasionally pointing out constellations to each other, soft smile playing on their lips. </em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Of Geralt offering Jaskier the first bite of whatever animal he managed to hunt during the day and roast on a spit over their campfire at night.</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Of Geralt swathing Jaskier in his own blanket after being woken by the sound of the bard's teeth chattering on especially wintry nights.</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Of Jaskier snuggling into the secure, warm confines of Geralt's broad chest when even the two layers of blankets could not stop the chill from taking hold of him, and Geralt wordlessly pulling him in with arms locked in a tight embrace.</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>His mind had been unable to focus anywhere, on anything - be it songs and poems, be it new knowledge or rumours that the bard was usually always curious to lap up, be it warming someone's bed...</p><p>Like right now. As he sat with his eyes distant and mind a mess, in a booth at one corner of a way-too-crowded tavern.</p><p>Right now, one part of his mind - one tiny, tiny part - was screaming at the rest of his mind to make a conscious attempt to pay heed to whatever the fool next to him was jabbering about. The rather comely fool, if he was being honest, with an enviable physique. </p><p>The man appeared not to mind the fact that Jaskier was clearly paying his words no attention - after all, it was not the prospect of conversations for which he had latched onto the bard. His hands would occasionally dart out, sneak their way up Jaskier's back, then to his bare neck, caress the sensitive spot behind his ear, languidly slither down his throat to his collarbone, surreptitiously open the first few buttons of his shirt.</p><p>And Jaskier felt like someone had unleashed a swarm of leeches upon him - creeping and crawling on his skin - disgusting, abhorrent, abominable.</p><p>But this time, Jaskier was adamant. He was not going to so much as wince. He was going to sit through this, going to lie down on the bed upstairs in his room and let this stranger take him with nary a word of objection, and he would force himself to be pleasured and to pleasure this man. And he would be damned if he did not endure this ordeal without letting his heart cry in pain.</p><p>
  <em>Because Geralt was gone. Geralt had abandoned him. Geralt was never again coming back. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Geralt hated him. Geralt would never love him ... never love him back.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And Jaskier must move on. He must. He must. He must...</em>
</p><p>Geralt's enhanced senses caught a scent above the aroma of coffee, the stench of sweat and unwashed clothes and the sour smell of alcohol wafting from the drunk villagers all around him, the reek of tobacco smoke that hung thick in the air of the tavern. </p><p>The sweet fragrance of chamomile and honey, mixed with something flowery, like dandelions.</p><p>He would recognize that smell anywhere.</p><p>And as his keen eyes sought his surroundings like a hawk surveying the landscape for a coveted prey, he saw him.</p><p>Sitting in a booth not far from Geralt, his expression mournful, his eyes shining with something that looked disturbingly like unshed tears, his frame rigid and yet forlorn, was Jaskier.</p><p>A man sat next to him, his hands hovering over Jaskier's slender, beautiful body, his mouth moving continually as he eyed the bard with a barely concealed lecherous smile.</p><p>
  <em>Geralt's stomach twisted in knots. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>What was that bitter taste on his tongue?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Why were his eyes smarting?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Why was he feeling this way? Like he wanted to grab that man by the throat and dangle him in the air, demanding how he dared to touch Jaskier? Like he wanted to throttle the man after making him apologize for even letting his eyes stray to Jaskier?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And why, at the same time, did he feel like he wanted to cry? To howl in pain and remorse, as Jaskier slipped away from him? To beg the bard to come back to him, to his arms?</em>
</p><p>And then, he saw.</p><p>Geralt saw how Jaskier's face twisted in revulsion and agony and he looked like he was going to be sick as, emboldened by the bard's silence, the man let his prying hands slither down underneath the table, and grabbed Jaskier through his breeches.</p><p>With a growl Geralt stood up, his chair toppling backwards, and strode to the booth where the sick monster sat fondling his ... his ...</p><p>"Take your hands off him."</p><p>Jaskier jumped in his seat and looked up at Geralt with wide eyes brimming with tears, and the man paused in his salacious exploring and gaped at the murderous Witcher looming above him.</p><p>"Who the fuck are you?"</p><p>"I said", despite the low snarl, the menace and promise of vengeance behind the words could not be mistaken, "If you want to keep your hands, get them off my bard. Now!"</p><p>And with that, a steel blade was digging into the man's throat, a tiny bead of blood appearing on it.</p><p>"Geralt, no!"</p><p>Geralt ignored Jaskier's alarmed cry. "Leave us. Now!"</p><p>The man didn't need to be told twice.</p><p>"What was that for?", Jaskier rounded on Geralt, furiously blinking back the tears that had threatened to fall only a few seconds back, "You have no right! None!"</p><p>And in a move that left both of them reeling with surprise and something fluttering in their stomachs, Geralt clasped Jaskier's smaller hands in his own, his forehead puckered in a frown and his eyes looking straight into Jaskier's in what could only be described as an open, entreating expression, and said in a soft voice ...</p><p>"Jaskier, I know I have no right to ask for this, but please, can we talk? Outside? Just for a little bit?"</p><p>And looking into those gold-amber orbs, into that dear, sorely missed face, Jaskier was only able to gulp and nod, letting himself be steered towards the exit of the tavern, his right hand still clasped in Geralt's left.</p><p>Both breathed freer in the clean air outside, but as they started to walk slowly away from the inn, Geralt stayed silent, his head bowed. And Jaskier sighed. This Geralt he knew (though not the part about how the brooding Witcher was yet to let go of his hand).</p><p>"You're just going to brood, aren't you?"</p><p>"No, I ...", Geralt paused and sighed, and his expression became pained, instantly making Jaskier's heart ache, "I am trying to sort things through my head. So I can ... say them properly. You know I am not good with words."</p><p>"You did not lack for eloquence when it came to shouting at me and casting me from your side, Geralt."</p><p>The White Wolf flinched as if scalded, and Jaskier briefly wondered if he was imagining things. </p><p>
  <em>I mean, can that be anguish I am seeing on that proud, usually stony face? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>What is that? Is that vulnerability peeking through his steely veneer?</em>
</p><p>"Jaskier", Geralt's voice was a low rumble, "I am so sorry. So sorry, Jaskier."</p><p>"You are ... apologizing?", the human nearly deadpanned.</p><p>Jaskier belatedly cursed himself for being so blunt - after all, his mind was numb with shock at the idea of Geralt apologizing.</p><p>
  <em>Of all people, the White Wolf of Rivia apologizing. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Of all people, to Jaskier - the stupid, nonsensically prattling, irksome fool of a bard.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>All the while looking that contrite, that wounded. </em>
</p><p>"I am. And I shall fully understand should you choose not to forgive me, Jasky."</p><p>
  <em>Jasky.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>So he still used that endearment.</em>
</p><p>Jaskier sighed. This was all too much. "Why are you here, Geralt?"</p><p>"I wasn't following you, I swear", the White Wolf raised his hands defensively, as if to show that he meant no harm, "Though I wanted to. I just wasn't sure if ... if you would want to ... you know ... reconcile. I just ... I miss you."</p><p>Those last three words were blurted out in a rush, and Jaskier wondered, for a moment, if he had heard them right.</p><p>"You miss me", he phrased the question / comment (he wasn't sure what it was) skeptically, unable to help himself.</p><p>"I do" - short, simple, sincere. No beating around the bush.</p><p>"I thought I wasn't your friend."</p><p>"You are. You have always been."</p><p>
  <em>Has the sun risen in the east today, or the west?</em>
</p><p>"I am bad with words. And I am bad with expressing emotions. Years and years and years of being mistrusted, being scorned and derided, being hated and maligned, being made to feel so unwelcome, being an outcast ... of feeling - of being - abandoned ... of being unwanted and unloved and ... and being considered a monster myself - it changed me. I ... I wasn't like this when I was young. But then, it seemed to me that the less I show my ... my vulnerability, my softness, the less the chances of getting hurt, of being used."</p><p>Jaskier wasn't sure what that burning feeling was in his eyes, nor did he care to wager why something hot and wet was running down his cheeks in rivulets, as he hung on to every word of the Witcher in front of him. The Witcher who, as far as he could remember, had never spoken a contiguous string of words a quarter as long as the one he just did.</p><p>"And so", Geralt's own face was crumpled in pain, and tears shone in those brilliant gold orbs, and he seemed to be talking past a lump in his throat, "When you came along ... I ... you lit up my days ... and nights ... but I still couldn't ... my mind just wouldn't let me ... open up. I was too scared. Too much of a ... a coward, Jasky."</p><p>"Geralt..."</p><p>"You were ... you are ... like the sun, Jasky. What use does the sun have for a ... a burned out, hollowed out, lifeless husk of a tree? I mean, you are supposed to love things that are alive and ..."</p><p>Before Geralt could say another word, Jaskier slammed into his chest, face buried into the crook of his neck, arms scooping up the Wolf in a rib-crushing embrace.</p><p>"Stop! Stop, you giant, incorrigible, obstinate oaf of a man!"</p><p>"Jasky...", Geralt returned the embrace, his nose buried and breathing deeply in the citrus-smelling, soft, chestnut-brown hair on the bard's head.</p><p>"How could you, Geralt? Have I ever - <em>ever</em> - given you the impression that I didn't care? That I would stop caring? That I ... that I didn't love you?"</p><p>Geralt's breath hitched, but the Witcher couldn't bring himself to speak - lest this remarkably beautiful dream shattered and he was forced to wake to the cruel, empty world again.</p><p>"If I am your sun, Geralt, then you are my Earth. You are what grounds me, what inspires me to shine brighter. What makes me laugh and sing and make merry and do all the other crazy antics I do for another day. Day after day."</p><p>"Jasky ... love ..."</p><p>"I miss you. I miss you so much, Geralt."</p><p>"I am never again leaving, Jasky", Geralt's voice got shrouded in doubt and hesitation again, "That is, if you do not mind me staying."</p><p>"Stay."</p><p>
  <em>So simple. So full of conviction.</em>
</p><p>"Thank you. And forgive me."</p><p>"Did that a long time back, Geralt. Shall we go back inside? I'm starving."</p><p>"Let's", came the answer with an indulgent smile.</p><p>For the first time in nearly a year, dinner wasn't a lonely and insipid affair. </p><p>As they sat side by side, sharing from the same platter of bread and cheese and piping hot lamb stew, their hands often brushing against one another, faces unable to hide the slightly giddy smiles and the soft glances they stole at each other, Jaskier wiggled his eyebrows at his Wolf, his tone teasing.</p><p>"Why did you scare that man off? I was looking forward to such a fun night toni-..."</p><p>"Were you?", the bard was cut short.</p><p>And with his heart racing and butterflies in his stomach, Jaskier watched the blazing gold orbs trained on him with an almost predatory look in them, and the Wolf's jaws were clenched, and he suddenly seemed to have grown ... bigger.</p><p>"Wh-what?"</p><p>"Were you really looking forward to sharing his bed, Julian?"</p><p>
  <em>Julian.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That name only ever came up to those lips in severe reprimand.</em>
</p><p>"I was rather under the impression that you were quite repulsed by his touches. Perhaps he was not your ... type, shall we say, Julian?"</p><p>Jaskier gulped.</p><p>"Perhaps your mind was conjuring up a different image. Of a different individual. Doing exactly the things that slimy bastard had the audacity to do to you. Hmm?"</p><p>
  <em>That's it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He was well and truly trapped now. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Trapped in the snare of the White Wolf.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And how good, how thrilling, how absolutely euphoric it felt!</em>
</p><p>"I-I don't know what you mean, Ge-Geralt."</p><p>"Allow me to demonstrate, then."</p><p>And with that, the Wolf rose to his feet, and pulled Jaskier out of the booth by his arm, even as the bard let out an involuntary yelp.</p><p>"My room", the tone brooked absolutely no argument.</p><p>No sooner had the door been shut, that Jaskier was pinned against a wall, a hand cradling the back of his head to stop him from banging his head against the stone, and Geralt's lips crashed upon his own.</p><p>
  <em>Oh gosh...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>How good it felt!</em>
</p><p>Geralt's commanding lips upon Jaskier's far more pliant ones, adroitly moulding with them, moving in tandem, in a deliberately slow, luxurious rhythm, while Geralt's hands wandered all over Jaskier's back, his hips, his waist, pulling him closer, flush against the broad chest of the Witcher. Jaskier, in turn, let his hands caress the back of Geralt's neck, his fingers tangling in the gossamer-white tresses.</p><p>Both men had their eyes closed and their hearts beating thunderously as they basked in each other's taste. Geralt nipped lightly on Jaskier's plump lower lip, and Jaskier immediately, obediently, opened his mouth, and the Wolf wasted no time in inserting his tongue, exploring his bard's mouth, relishing in the honey-and-spice taste of it. </p><p>"Geralt ... oh baby", Jaskier moaned into his Wolf's mouth, and Geralt couldn't help the satisfied growl that escaped his throat.</p><p>"Mine", he said, possessive, "You're mine. Mmmm ... all mine. My bard."</p><p>They finally broke apart, breathless, panting like they had run a mile, holding on to each other for sheer support.</p><p>"May I ... take you to bed?", Geralt looked at Jaskier with hooded eyes shimmering with lust and longing.</p><p>Jaskier cocked his head, a mischievous grin playing across his face as he winked. "Suppose I say no. Then what?"</p><p>And the predatory look was back.</p><p>"See if I can persuade you."</p><p>And Jaskier let out a long, unhesitating moan as his Wolf attacked his bare throat (Jaskier was secretly thankful he wore a shirt with a deep neck, exposing most of his throat) with hot, wet, sensuous kisses, trailing down from his upturned jaw, nuzzling against the sensitive patch of skin behind and under his ear, moist lips and tongue softly sucking on the flesh, waking fire.</p><p>"Baby, oh, baby ..."</p><p>Geralt's nimble fingers started undoing the buttons on Jaskier's shirt. Quickly, the garment was tugged off his frame, and the Wolf took a moment to gaze hungrily at him. Jaskier felt like his knees might buckle under that scorching stare.</p><p>And once again, the Wolf was upon him, now kissing, nibbling, sucking on the flesh on his shoulders, on his clavicles and his chest, running fingers through the thicket of hair on his chest. Jaskier arched up, his body aching to have more of Geralt's heated touches, and Geralt took this opportunity to wrap his lips around one soft nipple.</p><p>"Geralt ..." the whimper only served to make the Wolf grin like an actual wolf.</p><p>He softly suckled, tongue occasionally rasping over the poor nipple. Jaskier, he knew, was now trembling, his arms grappling and trying to hold on to Geralt so he didn't fall, and Geralt's hands tightened on the bard's hips reassuringly.</p><p>"Geralt, please ..."</p><p>"I like it when you beg me, Jasky."</p><p>And with that, Geralt directed his ministrations to the other nipple, and his soft, wet suckles sent shivers up Jaskier's whole frame. Leaving both nipples pink and over-sensitive, Geralt lowered himself on his knees, and looked up at his bard, who stood panting helplessly.</p><p>"Baby ..."</p><p>"Yes, Jasky?"</p><p>"Baby, please ..."</p><p>"What do you want, my love?"</p><p>"Take me. Please, take me."</p><p>"If that is what you wish, my darling."</p><p>Slowly, unhurriedly, he undid the cords holding together Jaskier's breeches, and then his smallclothes. Both his body and Jaskier's thrummed with anticipation as he slowly coaxed Jaskier's cock out, softly and lovingly stroking it, making the bard ache with need.</p><p>"Geralt, my sweetheart ..."</p><p>"Patience, dear heart ..."</p><p>And with that, he leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on the tip of the cock. Jaskier shuddered, eyes unable to blink away from his White Wolf.</p><p>Geralt started placing soft, loving kisses down the entire length of it, his tongue leaving a wet trail. Then, with a last look at his bard's ruddy face, he enveloped the cock-head in his mouth.</p><p>Jaskier whimpered, his back arching off the wall.</p><p>The Wolf was unbelievably dexterous and meticulous, kissing and sucking, bringing his bard tantalizingly close to the edge and then immediately pulling him back, making him more and more agitated. And all the while, Geralt was quite aware of his own need building up.</p><p>"Baby, please! Please, take me to bed."</p><p>Geralt needed no further urging. He stripped Jaskier of the breeches and smallclothes that lay pooled around his feet, and then Jaskier's hands were upon him, swiftly divesting him of his own clothing, fingers hovering all over him as the bard tried to touch every inch of his already heated skin, kissing everywhere he could and making Geralt nearly swoon with the love from his bard.</p><p>"Jasky, baby ... oh Jasky ..."</p><p>They led each other to the bed, Geralt making sure to hold the back of Jaskier's head as the bard lay down comfortably, then placing a pillow underneath his lower back.</p><p>"Good?"</p><p>"Good."</p><p>Geralt hummed, and Jaskier suddenly remembered something. "In my satchel. I have the vials of oils and lotions and stuff." Of course he did ... self-care was essential for a flamboyant bard such as Jaskier - thought Geralt adoringly as he brought the satchel over to the bed.</p><p>A few minutes later, he was smearing the lube on his own, already hardened cock, and then around Jaskier's rim. The bard waited with bated breath as he watched his Wolf make all the preparations.</p><p>"Jasky?"</p><p>"I'm ready", mumbled Jaskier impatiently, and Geralt chuckled.</p><p>Slowly, the Wolf pushed a single finger into Jaskier. The bard let out an incoherent string of words as his eyes fluttered closed, savouring the feeling.</p><p>Gradually, Geralt worked Jaskier up to three fingers, until the sweet bard was a moaning, writhing, flushed mess underneath his powerful, dominating, loving Witcher.</p><p>"Geralt, baby, oh...", Jaskier nearly wailed, his chest pressing to Geralt's as he arched up, "Please, I can't hold on."</p><p>Geralt pressed a soft, passionate kiss onto Jaskier's swollen lips. "You will tell me if you are in pain, Jasky, yes?"</p><p>Jaskier nodded. Finally - <em>finally</em> - the White Wolf pushed into his bard.</p><p>Jaskier's eyes rolled back in pleasure as Geralt gradually plunged himself all the way into his beloved human, and then they started rocking at a comfortable rhythm, Jaskier's hands running up and down Geralt's sides and hips while Geralt locked his lips with Jaskier, occasionally kissing his throat and chest, or resting his head at the crook of the bard's neck.</p><p>"Jasky, honey, say that you are mine", Geralt commanded in a whisper, his lips close to his pliant bard's ear.</p><p>Jaskier's fingers threaded through the white hair now hanging loose like a curtain, hiding both of their faces.</p><p>"I'm yours! Oh, I'm yours", Jaskier gasped as Geralt suddenly hastened the rhythm of their lovemaking a little bit, making the both of them go almost dizzy with pleasure.</p><p>Geralt's fingers wrapped around Jaskier's hardened cock, stroking it, starting slow and then picking up speed. Jaskier stuttered in his near-constant moans and whimpers as Geralt kept on whispering sweet nothings into his darling's ears. </p><p>"Oh my gosh ... oh darling ... baby ..."</p><p>"Come for me, Jasky. Come for me, dear heart ... come undone, oh my beloved human ..."</p><p>And Jaskier did. </p><p>"Geralt ..."</p><p>The wail of pleasure was followed by Geralt now starting to rock faster into Jaskier, his face buried into his human's shoulder. Jaskier tightened his arms around his Wolf's hips and pulled him impossibly closer, encouraging his Witcher to continue, as if his body couldn't wait to swallow all the love Geralt was giving him.</p><p>And in a few more minutes, the Wolf came undone as well, his frame shuddering with pleasure before he collapsed onto his bard's sweat-soaked body.</p><p>They lay there, chests rising and falling in unison, their bodies merging with each other almost seamlessly. Geralt with his head upon Jaskier's chest, Jaskier embracing his Wolf and anchoring him to his own frame.</p><p>
  <em>Can one feel this happy?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>This contented?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>This peaceful?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Can one feel this full, this complete, this whole?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>As if a missing piece of their heart has fallen in place, and their heart is now whole and mended and good as new again?</em>
</p><p>Eventually, Geralt spoke, his voice muffled as his face still remained burrowed into his lover's chest.</p><p>"I love you."</p><p>Jaskier stilled, his mind unable to believe what his ears confirmed he had just heard.</p><p>Slowly, hesitantly, he pried his lover's face off his chest and cupped it in his palms, forcing Geralt's searing gold-amber eyes to fix on his own cornflower-blue ones.</p><p>"I love you, Jasky. I have for a very long time. It took me too long to realize. Forgive me."</p><p>Geralt's voice was soft, his tone almost pleading, his eyes shining with tears.</p><p>Jaskier couldn't help his own tears, nor the dazzling smile that broke through the veil of those tears, mirrored a moment later on Geralt's face.</p><p>"I love you too, you dolt!"</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>